


I know

by Starcross



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Angst, Dysfunctional Relationships, F/M, Idiots in Love, OTP Feels, THEY DON'T KNOW, written for hlweek on tumblr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-13
Updated: 2017-07-13
Packaged: 2018-12-01 18:44:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11492418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starcross/pseuds/Starcross
Summary: “I love you”, she says.“I know”, he replies.It’s not true.





	I know

**Author's Note:**

> It's Han/Leia week on tumblr so of course i had to write a little something quick and angsty for the prompt 'Favorite Quote' .  
> YOU'RE WELCOME.

“I love you”, she said.

“I know”, he replied.

It wasn’t true.

He knew there was _something._ Attraction – she couldn’t deny that, not after the kiss, not when every day was filled with lingering looks she thought he didn’t notice.

Han knew he was attractive. A pretty face was useful for a mouthy conman who relied on bluffing his way out of trouble more often than not.

And enough people had told him so, whether in an attempt to charm him out of his pants (more or less successfully, on a scale ranging from Nara the Psychopathic Hutt to Lando Sweet-Talker Calrissian) or with the disconcerting Half Menace - Half Compliment Fett served him every time they met.

(Now that he thought of it, maybe ‘put that crate down before I blast off that handsome face of yours’ was supposed to be flirting. Hard to tell, with Mandalorians.)

Leia enjoyed his presence, he could tell. She liked the banter and the tension and this tango of theirs where each of them pretended to push the other back, only to bring them closer.

He liked it too. But when he looked at her and his chest went tight, and he found himself imagining a life at her side, and every nightmare that haunted his sleep had turned into people hurting her…

He loved her. He loved everything in that tiny bit of a woman who somehow concentrated all the fury and strength of the galaxy, like the Force itself was channeled through her bones. He loved the smiles that he managed to bring to her face, the sound of her voice, and the softness that sometimes pierced through her shields. He wished he could spend the rest of his days protecting her from any further harm, basking in her beauty and the way her soul sang to his.

_There’s no way in the universe that’s what she feels._

She liked him. She wanted him. She would miss him, maybe.

She didn’t love him.

He didn’t have it in him to reject it, though. She would find out soon enough. She would mourn him for a few weeks, think about it, and realize that whatever she felt was more the result of her craving for affection than anything that had to do with him. She would find someone else, someone worthy of the way she would look at him, someone that would support her through hell and back without ever questioning it, without leaving in the middle of a fight because they were terrified of commitment.

Someone she would love, for real.

He hoped it would be Luke.

For now, he looked at her as the carbonite tubes wheezed in an icy steam, and he pretended to believe.

\--

“I love you“, he said.

“I know”, she replied.

It wasn’t true.

She knew there was _something_. Reverence – she could see it in his eyes right now, as he stood between her and the assault rifle pointed at his back.

Leia was used to admiration. Growing up a princess meant reverence was the default attitude people adopted with her; being exceptionally competent and qualified only served to strengthen it.

As far as she could remember, people had always looked up to her with that trusting, slightly intimidated gaze Han was laying on her these days.

It was a burden.

She remembered a time when she almost decided to screw a diplomatic meeting, just to see if everyone would keep looking at her like the perfect princess who never got anything wrong.

Almost, because back then she still was the perfect princess who never got anything wrong. Not on purpose, at least.

She was not a princess anymore. She couldn’t be. Not when the world she was meant to rule had been reduced to ash drifting through space, not when the mountains that should have crowned her had crumbled to dust and every trace of her people had vanished forever.

Not that it stopped people from looking up to her.

Her father used to say that the real crown was the one inside her head.

She wished she could take it off sometimes.

She wished she could break, and yell and kick and screw up and be herself, her messy and fucked up and fully imperfect self.

That’s what she had liked in Han – ‘princess’ sounded more snarky than respectful in his mouth, and he fought and argued and teased her like she wasn’t anyone special.

But now he was looking at her like he couldn’t believe his luck to be at her side, like he would trust her to do anything – because it was _her_ and she couldn’t get it wrong, and her heart was heavy.

She loved him. She loved his fragility, his clumsiness, his stupid jokes. She loved that every fiber of his being was just unapologetically him, mistakes and failures included.

_There’s no way in the universe that’s what he feels._

He liked her. He admired her. He wondered how he could have landed a woman like that, she could see it in his eyes.

He didn’t love her.

She didn’t have it in her to reject it, though. He would find out soon enough. He would stay at her side for a while, and then he would realize that the real Leia was so far from his expectations that he might as well pick another. She didn’t want to know what the reverence in his eyes would turn into then – when he would find out she was just a broken homeless mess, when the magic would fade away and he would see her as she truly was.

For now, she looked at him as her finger found the trigger, and she pretended to believe.

\---

The moonlight was drawing stripes on the crumbled sheets.

They were old now, tired and wrinkled and more broken than they used to be.

Han would leave in the morning for the First Order’s base. For their son. For one last chance.

He stirred on the mattress, his hand reaching for her naked back, stroking absent circles on her skin that made a fire she thought long extinguished rise in her belly.

“I love you”, he said.

Silence stretched as Leia contemplated the ceiling. The words came to her lips naturally, like an old habit never forgotten, but this time she held them in.

“Do you?” she said instead.

He looked at her. They knew each other now; he had seen everything there was to see in her, and so had she. They had shown their ugliest parts, both of them hurting and abandoning and betraying the other in their turn.  Neither had bothered keeping a façade for a while.

He didn’t need to lie.

“Yes.”

He watched her as he stated it, simply and quietly, like an unshakable truth. And he saw her break, the distance between them crumbling as she reached back.

He didn’t have to ask, this time.

And both of them thought the same thing as they grasped each other and their lips desperately mashed, their bodies intertwining furiously as if passion could bring back every year they had lost.

_I thought you knew._

**Author's Note:**

> This was a quick prompt so it might feel a little more rushed than my usual stuff, but I like it.  
> For those of you whose heart I broke, uuuh let's say it's just a prequel to Chiaroscuro and everything will be fixed?  
> Or not. You decide.


End file.
